


clench your teeth and wait

by whittler_of_words



Series: Antebellum [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Found Family, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Politics, Selectively Mute Frisk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7165205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never had the chance to make many choices for yourself, growing up.</p><p>All your life you’ve had people telling you what to do, what not to do, where to go, what to say; you’d come to believe that everyone was better off when you just did what you were told, especially yourself. What else were you supposed to do? What else was there?</p><p>A whole lot, actually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	clench your teeth and wait

You never had the chance to make many choices for yourself, growing up.

All your life you’ve had people telling you what to do, what not to do, where to go, what to say; you’d come to believe that everyone was better off when you just did what you were told, especially yourself. What else were you supposed to do? What else was there?

A whole lot, actually. 

“Do you really think so?”

_Of course!_

Alphys fidgets with her claws, uncertainty furrowing her brow. “I don’t know...I’m n-not sure I really trust the writers to not, um, you know. Ruin everything?” She barks a nervous laugh before turning back to her desk, picking up the screwdriver lying there and fiddling with some mechanical part you’ve never seen before. “What if they make her forgive him? That would ruin her- her entire character arc, not to mention it would completely invalidate all of her feelings when that’s the entire reason all of this happened in the first place! Can you imagine if they had him just swoop in and save the day again and suddenly everything was alright like nothing ever happened and Ohhhhh My God I can totally see them playing it off as her overreacting I swear if that happens I’m going to _scream_ \--”

 _Even if that is what happens, just because it’s on the show doesn’t mean you have to accept it,_ you say, swinging your feet where you sit on your chair, and Alphys’ arm stills, the screwdriver that had seconds before been swinging around from the force of her enthusiasm hanging in her hand. That’s probably a good thing. Lab safety is important.

Alphys is staring at you like you’ve changed her whole world. She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something when suddenly there’s a loud crash from the entrance of the lab. She barely has the time to blurt out a surprised “Undyne!” and jump to her feet before the armor-clad monster is slamming open the door.

“ALPHYS!” Undyne roars, pointing a finger at the flustered scientist, and you politely cover your ears. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

You watch as she goes from standing straight to smoothing out her lab coat and back again, occasionally pushing her glasses up her nose as she talks. “Um!! Well, I-I mean, Frisk and I were talking about... anime?”

Undyne narrows her eye, crossing her arms and looking between you two. “You’re...talking about anime?” she asks. The sound of her foot tapping on the floor is especially easy to hear when Alphys doesn’t answer. “While you’re supposed to be working?”

Alphys’ shoulders hunch up. “W-well, we- I...”

“And you didn’t invite ME?!” Undyne leans her head back and cackles. “Good! Because I didn’t watch last night’s episode and I still need to catch up.”

“Oh!” Alphys breathes out a laugh, pushing her glasses up her nose again. “Of course.”

“If you could fill me in later, that’d be cool as heck.” Grinning, Undyne gives Alphys a salute. “Power is officially back in all homes in Lakeside, Doctor.”

“Thank god.” Alphys rubs at her eyes. The bags under them are deeper than usual; after almost a week of working to get the power back on in Ebott, she hasn’t had much time to sleep. “That just leaves Grassfield now, r-right?”

“Yup! My team in Downtown has received reports that all leftover candles and magic-run utilities have already been donated to the homes that need them the most. They should be all set for the next couple of days at _least._ ”

Alphys’ smile is relieved. “A-and with any luck it shouldn’t take that long at all.”

“HECK yeah! Knowing you, the power will be back on all the way in no time!” Undyne fistpumps, grinning widely, and even though her smile disappears as she pulls her helmet back on from where it’d been tucked under her arm, it’s more than audible in her voice. “I’m gonna go report to the King and Queen. There’s some more stuff they’ve gotta know, and plus there’s a certain old coot I have to go punch in the FACE!”

You sit up a little at that. _Gerson?_

“You bet! That guy used to be my old teacher before he started wandering around being all wise and mysterious. It’s GREAT.” Undyne holds out a hand. “He just came in this morning. You wanna come?”

Alphys smiles reassuringly when you give her a questioning look. “I-it’s okay, you can go! I have to start focusing on work, so it’d probably be, um, a little boring here anyway.”

Somehow, Undyne’s hand still manages to feel warm through the leather of her gloves when you take it, and you both wave goodbye to Alphys and make your way out of the lab without further event. The sound of her boots clacking on the pavement is enough to fill the silence for a little while, but when you tug on her hand to get her attention, Undyne hums and looks down at you.

 _When did you meet Gerson?_ you ask, and Undyne hums again except more enthusiastically.

“I was a little younger than you, actually. Back when he used to live here all the time, I’d follow him around the city and watch him beat up bad guys. Sometimes I’d even help! He thought I had so much spirit that he decided to take me under his wing, and I even got to train with Asgore. It was like a dream come true.” Undyne pauses. “I’ll give those guys one thing. They may be old as heck, but they kicked my butt!”

 _Really?_ you ask, eyes wide. You can see it with Asgore -- it’s hard to miss how strong he is, even when he’s trying his best to hide it -- but all you’ve really heard about Gerson is that he tells some good stories, and he’s really, really old. Like. _Super old._ You carefully adjust your opinion of him as Undyne laughs.

“You don’t get to be captain of the Royal Guard by being a wimp!! One day during training, I managed to knock both of them down, and that’s when Gerson asked if I wanted to be the next captain after him. I bet you won’t be able to guess what I said.”

You think about it for a long, hard moment. _Yes?_

“HECK YES!!!!” Undyne has to stop for a moment to punch a tree, but she takes your hand again when she’s done. “Of course, I wasn’t really expecting him to step down as captain the very next day and announce he was going to travel around the world as a nomadic hermit, but what can you do.”

 _He sounds nice._ Even though you really do mean it, the comment is more off-hand than anything. You’re not expecting it when Undyne stops in her tracks, jerking you to a stop when you try to keep walking.

“Frisk,” she says, and the suspicion in her voice is enough to make your shoulders hunch on reflex. “Are you...nervous?”

_Um--_

“You ARE!” She cackles, and you yelp as she wraps an arm around your middle and lifts you up, ruffling your hair enthusiastically. “You giant nerd! There’s nothing for you to be nervous about, he’ll freaking dig you!”

You resist the urge to screw up your face. While that may not have been the point of your questions, Undyne is still right, and you’re not sure how you feel about someone apparently being able to read you so easily. Maybe you should be more careful?? You’re not sure you can help the small measure of hope you feel leak into your expression, though. _You really think so?_

“Psht, I know so. Just you wait.” She lifts you up into the air and deposits you on her shoulders. “--Is what I’d say if I was a chump! LET’S GO, LOSER!!”

You barely have time to tighten your grip around her helmet before she’s sprinting off towards the castle.

(She has to stop two minutes later because her armor is too heavy, but you appreciate the sentiment anyway.)

///

Voices well up from inside the castle as you and Undyne approach, her hand in yours again after she set you down a while ago. You pick out Toriel’s voice easily, as well as Asgore’s, but there’s one among them you can’t place; you nearly stumble a bit realizing who that must be, but if Undyne notices, she doesn’t say anything about it.

You furrow your brows at her as she pulls her hand from yours, only for her to hold a finger to her lips. Easy enough. You thought it was impossible for her to move silently in that armor, but as she starts to carefully move forward, you almost can’t hear her at all. Impressive. You sneak with her, not wanting to give her away. She stops just behind the doorway to the living room where the group of monsters are talking and presses her back to the wall. Trying to stay out of sight?? 

You follow her gaze to where it’s directed across the room, and-- oh. There are blurry shapes reflected in the vase there. Clever. You tuck the trick away, and are about to ask Undyne what it is she’s doing when she suddenly leaps into action.

“NGGGAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

For a second, all you can do is stare, dumbfounded, at the empty spot where Undyne had been a few seconds ago. You’re jolted out of it by the sound of a loud crash and laughter coming from the next room, and you brace yourself for a huge mess as you cautiously peer around the doorframe.

You, uh. Don’t get one. Surprisingly.

Undyne lays sprawled on the floor, the two Boss Monsters by the table looking far too amused, and standing over her is a turtle monster you’ve never seen before cackling with his hands on his hips.

“Good job, ‘Dy, you almost had me that time! But it looks like _someone_ has been slacking off on her evasive training!”

“Darn right I have!” Undyne practically roars as she springs to her feet, roping Gerson into a noogie. The effect is a bit diminished by the helmet he’s wearing, but you don’t think either of them mind. “You old codger, you look like you haven’t aged a day.”

“Now now, I think that’s a compliment better reserved for our rulers!”

“We’re aging quite nicely, thank you,” Toriel says, and you have to stifle a giggle as Undyne whips around.

“Your Majesties!” She coughs, and gives them the same salute she’d delivered to Alphys. “The afternoon report.”

“Ah, yes! Let’s just take care of that now, shall we?” Asgore looks to Gerson. “Would you mind if we--”

“Bah, of course not! Go take care of your official royal business, Fluffybuns.”

That actually gets a snort out of you, but if anyone notices, they don’t show it, and neither Undyne, Toriel, nor Asgore seem to see you when you press yourself back against the wall like Undyne did as they pass. You wait until they’ve gone down the stairs to relax, only to immediately tense back up again.

“Have you heard the story about how Ol’ King Fluffybuns got that nickname of his? It’s a great one!” A pause. “At least I think it was. I can’t remember it. Oh well!” He laughs. “I’m sure it’ll come back to me eventually!”

You peer slowly back around the doorframe. Gerson is staring right at you.

He grins, showcasing a mouth full of missing teeth. “Woah there! Don’t think I’ve seen you ‘round these parts before.” He pulls out a chair from under the table and sits in it heavily. “You wouldn’t happen to be the _Frisk_ the missus has been telling me all about, would you?”

Identity revealed, you nod and step out from your hiding place. As vulnerable as you feel now, you take your first real good look at him; his right eye is screwed shut, you notice, a mirror to the eyepatch over Undyne’s left, and you wonder if somehow that was purposeful. And also: he is really old. Guess no one was wrong about that.

“How’re you liking this little town of ours?” he asks. You consider your answer carefully.

 _The people here are nice,_ you answer.

“Wa ha! ‘Course they are!” He grins and nods his head at you a little. The angle of the gesture only makes you think that it’s his version of a wink. “Looks like you’ll fit right in.”

That drags a smile out of you, and you finally walk over to join him at the table, sitting in the chair across from his. Gerson hums when you sit, tapping his chin.

“Y’know, I already gave the other kids their presents, but I didn’t think I knew you well enough to pick somethin’ out for you myself.” He squints, thoughtful. “Why don’t I show you to my cart while those three’re busy with royal business stuff and you can see what you like?”

You pause at that. Even now, it’s the random, unexpected kindnesses that take you most off guard; he’s hardly met you and he’s already offering to give you something from his store, for free. You bite down on the reflexive impulse to refuse -- there’s _one_ thing you know you want, and you’re not selfless enough to pretend you don’t

 _Actually, I was wondering..._ You bite your lip, not looking at his face. _Could you tell me a story?_

“A story?” There’s surprise in his voice, and you catch him idly scratching his neck. “Can’t say I have a shortage of those, wa ha...” He’s quiet for a moment, before he gives you a considering look. “Anythin’ special you’d like to hear?”

You don’t have to think about it for very long. _Something with a happy ending._

Gerson smiles, his eye crinkling up, and he leans back in his chair as he begins to speak.

 

 

“So I said to him, ‘cause that branch you’ve been wavin’ around this whole time is poison oak!”

You laugh into your hand, Gerson cackling along with you. Three stories later and the others still haven’t come back yet, but Gerson seems more than willing to pass the time with tales of his adventures, until you’ve barely even noticed the minutes pass. 

“Alright, what’ll be next,” he muses. “Another funny one? Or one with a hint of _danger?_ ”

You mull it over for a second, giving the question some thought. Gerson doesn’t rush you, and you’re grateful to him for it; you guess it’s probably not a big deal to him, seeing as how he’s a turtle and all. Or maybe he’s just nice.

 _Can I ask you a question instead?_

He smiles. “Shoot!”

 _What’s it like out there?_ His expression turns thoughtful as you continue on. _How does it really feel?_

He strokes the goatee on his chin, considering you carefully. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific, kiddo.”

You purse your lips as you try to think of a way to phrase it the way you mean it. Your signs are slow with thought. _How does it feel...to be on your own? To not have anyone telling you what to do, and to go wherever you want?_ You look up at him, eyebrows drawn. _Do you feel free?_

He leans back in his chair again, and you appreciate it when he doesn’t say anything right away. You don’t want a rushed answer, or for him to just tell you what he thinks you want to hear. It’s nice.

You’re really not expecting him to say, “Why don’t you find out?”

You’re not sure what’s in your expression at that, but whatever it is, it’s enough to spur him on. “The best way to learn is through experience, I say, and I know the Queen has been askin’ around to find you a more permanent place to stay.” He grins, and leans forward again. “So why don’t you come with me?”

You’re dumbfounded for one moment. Two. Then, _Will they even let me?_

You’re not sure which “they” you’re referring to, but Gerson doesn’t seem to think it matters. “It’s no one’s decision but yours.”

You feel yourself go still.

Voices rise up from the other room, and Gerson tilts his head at you again. “I’m stayin’ until the end of the week,” he says, voice hushed like you’re sharing a secret, “so you don’t need to decide ‘til then. Remember, kid. It’s all up to you.”

You don’t know what else to do, so you just nod, and no sooner does he sit back up in his chair than Undyne barrels in, Asgore and Toriel following behind at a more sedate pace. The two Boss Monsters have troubled expressions on their faces, but they drop them instantly the second they see you sitting at the table. Hm.

“Frisk!” Toriel cries, a warm smile growing on her face. “I didn’t know you’d come to visit. Have you and Gerson been talking?”

You glance at him, but the old turtle’s expression gives nothing away. _He’s been telling me stories,_ you say, and Asgore laughs.

“You’ll have to tell us if they’re ones we’ve heard before, later.”

You hop down from your chair. You can already guess that they all want to talk about Adult Things, and they never seem to want to do that when there’s a kid in the room, so you turn to Asgore and ask, _Are Chara and Asriel in their room?_

“Why, they were the last I checked,” he says. “Are you going to join them?”

Toriel speaks up next when you nod. “Tell them I will get started on lunch soon, will you? And you are more than welcome to join us.”

That gets another nod, and you wave goodbye to Undyne and Gerson as you exit the room and make your way down the hall. You don’t knock on your friends’ door right away, though. You take a moment to breathe, rubbing the palm of one hand with the thumb of the other. So, maybe today has already turned out a little differently than you thought it would. There’s nothing wrong with that.

“Come in!” calls a voice when you finally get yourself together. You don’t need to be asked twice.

You pause at the sight of Asriel and Chara crouched in front of the shelves at the far end of the room, but the way Asriel’s face lights up when he turns around to see you more than makes up for the confusion. 

“Frisk!” he says, the exclamation causing Chara to glance up before turning back to whatever’s caught their attention. ”Come look at this!”

Curious now, you approach the shelf, both of them shuffling over to make room for you between them. If you could whistle, you definitely would at what you see sitting there.

There are dozens of rocks sitting on the first two shelves, which you could appreciate in any given circumstance, but these aren’t like any rock you’ve ever seen before; they look like they’ve been cut in half,revealing glittering crystals of various shapes, sizes, colors... They’re beautiful.

“Isn’t it cool?” Asriel asks, and you don’t realize you’ve been staring until his voice draws your gaze.

_What are they?_

“They’re called geodes,” Chara supplies, still looking down at them. “It’s when crystals form in the hollow space inside a rock.”

“Gerson brought them for us,” Asriel says, smiling widely. “Did he bring you anything, Frisk?”

For a second, you nearly tell them. Both of their eyes on you, you almost feel like you could trust them with your new secret, but after a moment’s pause you find yourself signing, _He told me stories._ You try not to feel bad about it. It’s not like you’re lying anyway, right?

“Aw, I’m sorry.” Asriel scrunches up his face, but his expression bounces back to excited so quickly you almost can’t follow it. “Oh! Here!” He turns back to the shelf, hands hovering over the geodes before he picks up one choked with purple crystals. “You can have this one. It made me think of you.”

He pushes it gently into your hands before you can protest, the light refracting the crystals nestled inside into deep purples and reds that you could stare at for hours. He smiles at you like he’s the one who just won a prize and not someone who just gave one away. Fondness wells up in your chest, then, threatening to overwhelm you, and you pull him into a hug almost before you realize what you’re doing. 

Chara signs _Gross_ from behind Asriel as he hugs you back, and you just smile and make a note to hug them sometime, too.

Can you really leave this?

You guess the real question is: if you leave...

Will you ever want to come back?

///

Papyrus cries out when he sees you, practically jumping down the stairs to get down to the first floor. “FRISK!” He squats down to your level, and you appreciate not having to lean your head back to see his face. “YOU’VE BROUGHT HOME A PET!”

You look around you to see what he’s talking about, but all you find is the carpeted floor of the skeleton’s home. You’d wonder if he’s talking about the dog that they’ve told you sneaks into the house sometimes, but you don’t see any sign of that, either. 

“YOU’RE SO RESPONSIBLE, I’M SURE I WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT YOU FEEDING IT LIKE A CERTAIN BROTHER OF MINE!” he says, and you follow his gaze to...your arms?

_The rock??_

“AH... THERE COMES A TIME IN EVERY YOUNG PERSON’S LIFE WHERE THEY SEEK TO FURTHER THEIR CARETAKING SKILLS.” Papyrus clasps his hands together by his jaw, a glimmering look in his eye. “AND A PET ROCK IS PERFECT FOR THAT.” He levers a look over to the desk Sans is sitting at. “MOST OF THE TIME. _”_

Sans turns around from his paperwork at that, lowering the glasses taped to his face to squint at the geode you’ve kept cradled in your arms all the way back here. “nice one, frisk. ‘dyou stop by the shelter on the way home?”

...Are they messing with you? You honestly can’t tell, but if they were, surely they’d be more angry with you for bringing home a pet. Right? Shifting on your feet, you decide to answer as honestly as you can. _Asriel gave it to me._

“HOW WONDERFUL!” Papyrus blinks down at the rock. “HAVE YOU THOUGHT OF A NAME FOR YOUR NEW FRIEND YET?”

You pause, and shake your head. Papyrus goes “Nyeh heh heh”.

“NYEH HEH HEH! WELL I AM SURE YOU WILL HAVE A FUN TIME PICKING ONE OUT!” He stands up straight again, hands on his hips. “AND IF YOU NEED SOME HELP, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD BE HAPPY TO ASSIST!”

You smile up at him gratefully. _Thank you, Papyrus._

He’s the one to tuck you into bed, pulling the corners of the covers down under the mattress in the way he says is best, making you feel like you’re wrapped up in a huge blanket burrito. You think it’s a little stifling, but he seems to enjoy himself enough doing it that you don’t say anything, waiting until he’s gone to slip out from under the covers and lay on top.

“WHAT’S GREAT ABOUT YOUR NEW ROCK FRIEND,” he says, patting down the blanket to make sure it’s sufficiently cozy, “IS NOT JUST THAT IT IS A ROCK AND A FRIEND, BUT THAT IT CAN WATCH OVER YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP! LIKE A GREAT, PEBBLY PROTECTOR THAT CAN’T MOVE OR CALL FOR HELP IN A CASE OF DANGER.” 

You don’t really get it, but you smile up at him anyway, and he seems satisfied with the response.

“IS THERE ANYTHING YOU NEED BEFORE I GO? ANOTHER BEDTIME STORY, PERHAPS?”

You deliberate for a second. You consider asking for help with your new problem, and for a moment you really, _really_ want to but-- _No, thank you._

“VERY WELL.” He leans forward, encapsulating you in a hug, and you return it in full, inhaling as deep as your lungs will let you. He smells like tomato and perfume. You never thought you’d find the combination so comforting. “SWEET DREAMS, FRISK.”

You don’t move for a while after he leaves, staring up at the ceiling. It feels kind of like there are a million thoughts going through your head at once and not at all, slipping through your fingers every time you try to grab onto them to take a closer look. You exhale heavily, pressing your palms into your eyes.

Maybe you should ask for help.

Maybe this is too big of a decision to be making on your own. People have been telling you since you got here that there’s no shame in talking about things that are troubling you if you need to. It couldn’t hurt, right? There’s a possibility ahead of you, huge and looming, that already seems to be overshadowing everything else you do. What if you make the wrong choice? What if you regret it? You don’t think you can do this by yourself.

But if you ask for someone else’s input...can you really say the decision is entirely yours?

You frown, rubbing your eyes until you see colored static on the back of your eyelids. You promised yourself the moment you ran away that you wouldn’t let anyone tell you what to do anymore. You’re tired of being locked away like you’re some dirty, broken secret, incapable of thinking for themself at all. Distantly, your arm aches. You refuse to let anyone treat you like that ever again.

You feel too hot under the covers suddenly, and you kick them off until the blankets are bunched up at your feet. It’s not enough. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you’re careful to keep your footsteps quiet as you walk over to the door. You let out a breath when the handle turns with no resistance.

Not locked.

You press your forehead against the door, the wood cool against your skin. The entire reason you’re considering leaving in the first place is because you want to see what _true_ freedom is like. If you can’t make this little decision by yourself, will you really be able to handle everything out _there_ anyway?

That settles it, then. You can’t talk to anybody about this. 

Decision made, you straighten back up, determination setting your jaw. There. Now you have a plan of action. You just have to figure this out yourself, and you don’t have to worry about anyone else messing things up.

So why don’t you feel any better?

Your gaze falls to your hand, still resting on the doorknob. There’s something niggling in the back of your mind, a truth you’ve been carefully ignoring since the first night you began to call this place your home. It rises to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

You could leave right now, if you wanted.

You could open the door and walk out and no one would be able to stop you. You don’t know where you’d go, but it doesn’t matter; you’d just keep walking and walking until you found another place you could almost fit in and then you’d leave that one, too. It’s tempting.

A muscle in your arm twinges, and your frown deepens as you thumb at the bandages there. Clean ones.

You step back from the door. You’re not really brave enough for that, anyway.

No sooner do you make the decision than there’s a knock at the door, nearly making you jump. You freeze, though, only to relax at the voice filtering through the wood.

“you awake?”

You wait a moment. Two. You knock quietly back on the door yourself, then, giving Sans some warning before you open the door. He looks tired, but his smile seems genuine enough.

“hey,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “just wanted to let you know i got called into the lab, so i’m not gonna be here for the rest of the night. i’m gonna be up for a while though,” he continues, “so go ahead and text me if you need anything, yeah?”

You consider asking if everything is okay, but if there was something seriously wrong, you know Sans probably wouldn’t keep it from you. You nod instead. _Say hi to the others for me._

“will do.” He winks, leaning back on his heels. “try and get some sleep. you wanna be bright eyed and bushy tailed for school tomorrow.”

All you have to say to that is sticking out your tongue, but that seems to be enough for him. He chuckles.

“g’night, buckaroo. see ya tomorrow.”

_G’night, Sans._

You turn back to the bed once you close the door, brows furrowed in thought as you make the bed again. It’s not that you ever expected any of this to be easy. It’s just...

You pick up the geode from where it sits on top of the nightstand, clutching it to your chest as you crawl underneath the bed.

///

You have to struggle to keep your eyes open the next day during school. A night of hardly any sleep has done you no favors, but it at least gave you plenty of time to finish your homework, and you do a good enough job at hiding your tiredness that Toriel dismisses you and Chara for your break without comment.

Your hopes for a couple minute nap are dashed when Chara plops themself down next to you in the garden, a purpose set in their shoulders.

“I overheard Toriel and Asgore talking a couple days ago.” They’re whispering, which is enough to immediately draw your suspicion even without the bonus of their actual words. “I heard something interesting I think you should know.”

Well, that does it. Your curiosity outweighs your irritation enough for you to sit upright, giving Chara an inquisitive look. _What?_

“You remember the earthquake, right?” the start, drumming their fingernails on their knee. “Well, apparently the power outage it caused wasn’t just limited to Ebott.”

You frown. _So the human town..._

“Doesn’t have any power either,” they finish, satisfied with your guess. “And I found some letters, too. _Apparently_ Mom and Dad sent official propositions of aid.”

You really don’t know where they’re going with this. _So...?_

“ _So,_ they refused!” Chara’s voice rises sharply in volume, and they beat it back to a hiss as they continue. “Practically spit the offer back in their faces.”

Frowning still, you mull the information over carefully, the expectant way Chara’s watching you helping absolutely not at all. _You just “overheard”, huh?_

“Shut up,” they say, ears going red. It’s almost enough to make the entire conversation so far worth it.

_What does Asriel think about this?_

That gets Chara to lean back a little, huffing as they cross their arms over their chest. “Asriel doesn’t know.” They give you a pointed look. “And I’d like it to stay that way.”

You rub your face. Maybe you’re just too tired, but you don’t understand what’s going on in the slightest. _So why’re you telling me?_

“Because you’re human, too.” They narrow their eyes at you. “Besides, don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

 _I guess._ It’s uncertain, though, and you know Chara can tell. _What should we do?_

Their suspicion fades into confusion, drawing their brows together. “What do you mean?”

 _Well, you said it yourself. We’re human too._ The suspicion comes right back at that, their narrowed eyes balanced on the thin line between a squint and a glare, and you know you’re treading on ice at least as flimsy. _So don’t we owe it to them to do something?_

“I,” they say slowly, “don’t owe those people _anything._ ”

You choke on a wince. Even still, you can’t help but try one more time. _But what’s the use of being the only humans here if we don’t use that to help people? Maybe we could convince them to let us help--_

The look on Chara’s face at that is enough to drag your hands to a stop. They breathe in and out, slowly, and you wish desperately you could pull the words back into your fingers and keep them from ever leaving your hands, but you can’t.

“Frisk,” they start, and the lack of anger in their voice only makes it worse. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your shoulders hunch of their own accord. You didn’t think it was possible for you to get more tired than you were before, and yet.

 _Sorry,_ you say after a while, and neither of you say anything else until Toriel calls you back. 

///

The sound of shuffling papers draws your attention, and you look away from your own half-finished drawing in time for Asriel to hold up his, a critical look in his eye. “I’m done! What do you think?”

He slides it over the floor to you, and you lean over to give it your full attention. It’s a portrait of Mount Ebott, colored in all greens and yellows and oranges, accompanied by a perfect blue sky. It’s definitely much better than anything you could ever come up with, and it doesn’t take you long to find something to compliment.

 _I like the way you did the shadows,_ you say, pointing to the far side of the mountain that’s caught your attention. _It looks really cool with the purple._

“You think so?” He pulls the paper back over, looking at it one last time before finally letting a satisfied smile settle on his face. “Me too! I’ve been trying to get better with coloring stuff lately.”

 _Do you wanna be an artist?_ you ask, sitting up so you’re not leaning on your elbows while you sign. He shoots you a look.

“What do you mean?”

 _When you grow up._ You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. _Do you wanna be an artist?_

“Oh! Well.” He shrugs, suddenly busy with smoothing out the paper in his lap. “When I get older, I’m supposed to take over the throne from Mom and Dad, so.”

You sit on the impulse to screw up your face, because that doesn’t actually answer your question at all, but you don’t doubt that Asriel knows that already. 

_Can’t you be the King and an artist at the same time, though?_ you ask, and you don’t miss the way Asriel’s eyebrows furrow.

“I mean, _technically_ it would probably be okay,” he admits. “But... I’ve been able to tell for a while now that things haven’t been so great between us and the humans. Mom and Dad have been trying to protect me from a lot of it I think, but it’s kind of obvious. If things don’t get better soon, I probably won’t have a lot of time for drawing.

“Besides,” he continues more brightly, “art is more Chara’s thing anyway!”

The redirection of the topic is sudden enough to throw you, but it’s obvious enough that you’d feel bad about not taking it. _Really?_ you ask, looking over to the wall on Chara’s side of the room, but there’s nothing there -- just the same simple drawing of a flower that’s been taped to the wall since the first day you saw it.

“They don’t really like showing people,” he says, following your gaze. “I think they get embarrassed, so they always hide it when they’re done. But they’re really good! They even drew me my own character and everything.”

_Can I see?_

“Sure!” He scoots over to his bed, reaching underneath it and pulling out a box. He rifles through it for a moment before making a pleased noise and removing a piece of paper, scooting back to sit next to you. “They told me not to show anybody,” he says, holding it out for you to see, “but I don’t think they’ll mind if it’s just us.”

The monster on the paper looks kind of like Asriel, except bigger and sharper and with a lot more black involved. ‘The Absolute GOD of Hyperdeath!!’ is scribbled in the corner, embellished with multicolored stars. If you’re being honest with yourself? It’s probably one of the coolest things you’ve ever seen.

 _This is really good,_ you say, still looking down at the drawing. They must’ve put a lot of time into this. _They did this all by theirself?_

“Mmhm! Told you they were good.” He sits up, moving back to his bed to put it away, and you turn back to your own drawing, figuring that’s the end of that conversation. When he speaks again, the sudden hesitance in his voice is enough to draw your attention over to him again. 

“Hey...Frisk?” He fidgets with the sleeves of his sweater, glaze ficking to you and away and then back again. “Did you and Chara get in a fight?”

Oh. You curl your fingers into your palms as you think of how to answer. Nothing easy comes to mind. _I don’t know,_ you finally admit. _But I think they’re mad at me, so I’ve been trying to give them some space._

He nods, not looking entirely satisfied. “They’ve been acting kind of weird the past couple days,” he says, putting the drawing back in the box and sliding it under his bed. “And I haven’t seen you guys talk like you usually do, so...”

 _I think they’ll be OK,_ you offer, hoping with all you have that it’s not a lie. _They just need some time._

“I know!” he says hastily. “I mean, we’ve been friends for a while now, so I know how they act when they’re upset and stuff. I’m just...afraid?” He laughs a little, rubbing his neck. “I don’t want them to run away again.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to think. You can understand his concern; if Chara runs away now, the chances of actually catching up to them this time are even lower than before, now that they know you’d be looking for them, too. Nobody wants that to happen. _I can try to talk to them if you want,_ you offer, even as you realize that probably wouldn’t be the best idea. Asriel shakes his head anyway.

“Thanks, Frisk, but I think I need to talk to them myself.” He sets his shoulders, resolute. “They think I don’t notice, but they’ve been hiding some things from me, too. I don’t want them to think they have to deal with whatever it is they’re keeping to themself on their own.”

You smile at him. _You’re a good friend, Asriel._

His expression melts into something a little more shy. “I just want to help,” he says. “Besides, if I’m a good friend, you’re great! It was just me and Chara for a long time, and even if they tried to pretend they weren’t, I could tell they were lonely.” He grins at you. “And you’ve helped me a lot, too.”

You lean back a little at that. _Seriously?_

“Yeah!” He picks up a blank paper from the floor, a hand rifling through the pile of crayons sitting between you. “I don’t really know how to explain it yet, so I don’t want to say anything until I figure it out, but you really have.” He glances at you, still smiling as he begins to draw again. “I’m glad you’re our friend, Frisk.”

You look down at your half-finished drawing of the ocean and try not to feel sick.

///

You don’t sleep the night before Gerson is set out to leave. You spend most of your time making sure your rock has enough sprinkles, and when you can’t stand to stare at the colors your night light splays across the walls anymore, you join Sans downstairs for a while. Neither of you say much. You think he’s probably more tired than you are.

The day comes bright and sunny and warm. You try not to think about it too much.

“Beat some losers up for me!!” Undyne says, wrestling Gerson into a hug. He doesn’t look much affected by her strength, mostly just patting her on the back and laughing in response.

“You two stay out of mischief and I’ll have something extra special for you next time I come ‘round,” he says, grinning down at Chara and Asriel. He leans in, lowering his voice to a faux whisper. “Or at the very least, don’t get caught. Wahaha!”

“No promises,” Chara says at the same time Asriel goes, “We will!”

“The same goes to you,” Asgore says, giving his friend a pointed look as they shake hands. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“Hoo, don’t remind me!” Gerson pats Asgore a couple times on the arm, making the Boss Monster wince. “You know me. If anything goes wrong, I’ll just run _really fast._ ”

“Reassuring,” Toriel says, giving Gerson a handshake of her own. “You always have been one to run from your problems.”

Gerson’s cackle turns uproarious at that. “And don’t I know it!”

You’re not expecting Sans to step up and exchange a fistbump with the taller monster, but he does, winking as he talks. “send more letters while you’re at it,” he says. “they’ve been gettin’ a little sparse.”

Gerson tilts his head to match. “I think you’ve just been gettin’ greedy, Sansy! But I’ll do my best.”

“got any idea on where you’re gonna go from here?” Sans asks. Gerson hobbles over to his cart, kicking up the rest keeping it from rolling. 

“Well,” he says, scratching his chin, “that depends.”

“On what?” Asriel asks.

Gerson looks at you.

You shift on your feet, resisting the urge to fidget further as you feel everyone’s gazes settle on you. The part you’ve been dreading the most about this moment, aside from everyone’s potential reactions, was how to bring it up in the first place. You’re at least grateful to Gerson for making it easy for you.

_You should go to the sea._

“Just me?” he says, squinting thoughtfully, and he laughs when you nod, leaning back against his cart. “Guess that settles it! I’m off to the ocean. Good luck, kid,” he says, giving you a smile that lets you know he means it. “You’ve got yourself a real nice family, here.”

Everyone waves to him as he leaves, and you watch him walk down the road until he turns a corner and you can’t see him anymore. A part of you is already panicking, wishing for nothing more than to run down the street after him and tell him you’ve changed your mind, you’ve decided you want to go with him after all, but--

You’re happy here. Isn’t that enough?

Turning at a sharp tug on the sleeve of your sweater, you’re surprised to find Chara waiting at your elbow. “Come to the garden once everyone else is gone,” they say, low enough you’re sure only you can hear. “We need to talk.” They duck away before you have a chance to respond, and you blink after them.

Well. Alright.

 _I’m gonna stick around for a while,_ you tell Sans. He shrugs in response.

“cool. just lemme know if you plan on goin’ anywhere special, ok?”

He couldn’t possibly know what you mean when you smile and say _I’m not planning on it,_ but he smiles back like he does, and that’s fine with you.

You thought it’d only be Chara waiting for you there when you finally make your way to the garden, but Asriel is sitting among the flowers too, looking like he has as little of an idea of what’s going on as you do. Your pace slows to a stop as you join them.

 _What did you want to talk about?_ you prompt when it doesn’t look like anyone else is going to say anything. Chara begins to pace like the words were a switch, knuckles pressed to their lips.

“A little over a year ago, I learned something important,” they say, pacing still. “I kept it to myself, because nobody else aside from those I learned it from seemed to know and I agreed with the implication that it would be best for it to stay that way.” They stop pacing. You can’t shake the feeling that their words are rehearsed. “Recently, I’ve come to realize that keeping this information to myself is hurting not only me, but you two as well.” Their eyes flick to Asriel, and if you smile, it’s only on the inside. “So I’m telling you both everything. But only if you promise you won’t say a _word_ to anybody else.”

Asriel still looks confused, but there’s no uncertainty in his voice when he says, “I promise.”

 _I promise,_ you agree.

“Good,” Chara says. They take a breath as if steadying themself, and then, with all the gravity of Atlas, “Mount Ebott is not what you think it is.”

///

Even after the ground shaking revelation -- ha, you’re not sure who would appreciate that one more: Chara or Sans -- time seems to pass just as normally as before you knew the secret that Chara and their parents have been keeping to themself for over a year. You guess you’re not surprised, not really; the mountain has always been an omen of ill fortune among humans, so why _wouldn’t_ it turn out to be a volcano on the verge of destroying all you know?

If you’re grateful for one thing, it’s the explanation it offers for Chara’s behaviour to your reaction about the letters. Their apology hadn’t been stated outright when they were sharing the story with both you and Asriel in the garden that day, but it had been implicit enough to satisfy you.

Still. You find yourself drifting off in most of your spare moments, wondering-- there has to be _something_ you can do. Something that could be done to prevent the disaster waiting on your doorsteps. Surely, if you just looked a little harder, you could find something that would work?

Despite that, you still can’t bring yourself to bring up the idea to Chara again.

You shoulder open the door to your house, backpack on your arm, and pause for a moment at the sight of Gaster sitting at the desk. He’s so rarely at the house, and he’s cordoned off to the deeper parts of the lab only the doctors are allowed in so often that you can count the amount of times you’ve had an actual conversation with him on one hand. He looks up as the lamp at the desk flickers with your entrance.

 _THERE IS A PACKAGE ADDRESSED TO YOU ON THE TABLE,_ he says, and then turns back to whatever paperwork he’s brought with him.

??????

Just like Gaster said, there’s a thick white envelope on the table with your name stamped on the front, and no return address. Odd. Trying to rip the envelope as little as possible, you tear it open at the top, and carefully shake the small, nondescript box tucked inside into your hand.

It’s not heavy. The only thing of note about it is the string keeping the top in place, and it comes away with one sure tug.

It’s a shell.

It’s roughly oval-shaped, curving in on one side, and you spend a good couple of moments turning it around in your hand and watching the blues, greens, and purples shine in the kitchen light overhead. You’ve never seen anything like it before. Probably to be expected, seeing as how you’ve never seen a seashell at all before, but if you concentrate really hard, you can still smell the salt.

 _ABALONE,_ Gaster says when you show it to him, and he has an appreciative look in his eye as he turns it over in his hands. _THIS WOULD BE THE SHELL OF SUCH A SEA SNAIL. VERY PRETTY._ He hands it back to you, almost smiling. _I’VE HEARD THE SNAILS THEMSELVES ARE QUITE DELICIOUS AS WELL._

You’re smiling the entire walk up to your room, the box and the shell held carefully in your hands. There’s only one person such a gift could’ve come from, really.

You place the shell on the nightstand next to your geode, and plan out a thank you note to Gerson in your head.

**Author's Note:**

> the heat is being cranked up a l ittle more, but at least none of the kids have to deal with it entirely on their own.
> 
> thanks for sticking through with number 6! ouob


End file.
